


A Sky Full of (Shallow) Stars

by Semperfidani



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Death - Major Character(s), Death of Chewie, Dysfunction Solo/Skywalker Family, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fake Dating, Gang Violence, Gun Violence, Hollywood Award Season, Implied Alcoholism - Leia, Implied Drug Use - Han, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Land of dreams, Light A Star Is Born vibes, Luke is an asshole but protective of his sister., Manipulative Agent, Messy Pasts, Prescription Drug Use, Rey is the only witness but blocks it out, Reylo - Freeform, Reylo - Hollywood AU, Reylo - Modern AU, Reylo - Movie Star AU, WannabeActress!Rey, What’s Your Dream?, actor!kylo, death of Han Solo, unsolved mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-10-20 21:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17630342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semperfidani/pseuds/Semperfidani
Summary: Rey, a struggling wannabe actress with a painful past, is trying to break into show business and forced to take waitress jobs to pay the bills.Kylo Ren, a famous actor from a legacy family with a troubled past, is nominated for numerous awards and pressured by his agent to bring a date to the award shows to improve his image.Rey spills water on his lap at the Golden Globes. How fortuitous.





	1. In the Shallow

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is inspired by the song Shallow by Lady Gaga & Bradley Cooper.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story, my contribution to the Reylo Awards AU fics. Note that any spelling or grammar errors are my own, and I welcome constructive feedback.

****

**_ Golden Globes _ **

**Kylo**  

> _Tell me something, boy._
> 
> _Aren't you tired tryin' to fill that void?_
> 
> _Or do you need more?_
> 
> _Ain't it hard keeping it so hardcore?_

“Kylo, I thought you were serious about your your commitment to this film. To your career. I must have been mistaken.”

Kylo held the phone, flinching at the sound of his agent’s slithery voice as it hissed in his ear like a snake spitting venom.

“When I discovered you, I saw raw, untamed talent, and beyond that, something truly special. I expected you to be like your grandfather, the greatest talent of the Golden Age of Hollywood. But alas, you are no Anakin Vader. You are just a weak and pathetic boy who puts on a cheap facade, like your father.”    
  
Kylo clenches his hand into a fist, his nails biting into the skin of his palm, leaving little crescent moons. His tall and muscular body shakes with visceral anger. Thankfully, his mind kicks in before he completely loses his shit. He reminds himself that he is grateful for all that Alister Snoke has done for his career; for allowing Kylo to carve his own path from his family's legacy. He inhales, quickly collecting his thoughts before replying.  
  
“You are right, Mr. Snoke. Your guidance has been invaluable, and I’ve been acting like a petulant child. Thank you for reminding me of what is important. I will pick up Bazine at 3:30. It will be an honour to escort her to the awards ceremony, sir.”  
  
Kylo grits his teeth as he stared at himself in the reflection. The hair stylist applies a final dollop of mousse to his long wavy chocolate brown hair. The other attendant applies a moisturizer to his attractive face dotted with beauty marks, and to his long aquiline nose. She applies a final moisturizing lip balm to the his plush lips, currently pursed in displeasure.

“Excellent. I knew you would see things clearly. As I’ve told you before, 90% of what we do is sell a certain image to the world. I feel like Kylo Ren, the unconfirmed and moody bachelor, has hurt _our_ chances winning any awards. If you don’t win, I don’t win. I always play to win, boy. Nobody will buy into the idea that you are a serious romantic lead in this film if you galavant around Hollywood like a playboy,” Snokes voice drips in slight derision.  
  
“You are so right, sir. I know what I need to do. I will see you tonight,” Kylo ends the call with a firm swipe, before throwing it across the room.  
  
“Leave.”

Mitaka, and his team of stylists from First Order, back out of the room.  
  
Upon hearing the door click, Kylo stands, and in a pique of rage, sweeps the makeup contents off the vanity, before tossing the chair across the room, causing a hole in the drywall. He throws three decorative pillows, one at a time, at the window, before kicking the settee over. He grabs the candy dish and flings it across the room, the jellybeans flying out like tiny pellets in battle.  
  
Kylo paces like an angry tiger to the vanity, gripping the counter, breathing heavily as he stared at himself in the mirror. The eyes of Ben Solo stares back at him, ones that resemble his father.  
  
_Dada, I want to be just like you when I grow up._  
  
_Kid, you need to carve your own path. Do something productive, like archeology or carpentry. Don’t follow my footsteps and waste your life._  
  
Kylo runs his hand through through his hair, before walking over to his jacket, reaching into the pocket for the Ativan.

_Young Ben Solo. You need to step out of your parents shadow, unless you want to end up in soap operas like your weak and pathetic father. You have too much of your grandfather in you to toil away under your uncle Luke’s tutelage at Skywalker Agency. To even suggest you work in sitcoms is proof that your family does not think you good enough to be a star. Join me… join the First Order Agency, and I will mold you into who you were meant to be._

He bends and reaches for the bottle of water, lying astray on the floor.  

_This isn’t going to go the way you think it is, kid. But if you think you know better, don’t let me stop you from leaving Skywalker Agency. You are just like your hotshot father: all drive, no commitment, and not nearly good enough. So get lost, kid. Go._

_Pathetic. Weak. Not good enough._ The words repeat in his brain, over and over, as his breath staggers. He opens the prescription, placing the tiny pill on his tongue, before taking a swig. He counts back from ten, just like his therapist instructed, his mind begging for silence.

After a few minutes, Mitaka pushes the door open, peeking his head from behind the door. “S-s-sir, is it safe to come in now?”  
  
“Let’s just get this done,” Kylo growls. “You might need to have one of your staff to go purchase some new product.”  
  
“Don’t worry sir. We already have a backup product. We know not to come unprepared when it comes to an event you are involved with.”  
  
With a clap of Mitakas hands, his staff came back in, and within five minutes the room was cleaned up as if nothing had ever happened.

 

 **Rey**  

> _Tell me somethin’ girl._
> 
> _Are you happy in this modern world?_
> 
> _Or do you need more?_
> 
> _Is there somethin' else you're searchin' for?_

“Now remember. Your jobs are to be invisible but attentive and prompt. If the glass is empty, fill it up. If the plate is empty, remove it.” Amilyn Holdo addresses the team full of waiters and waitresses, her purple hair tied in a tight bun.  

”Yes ma’am, no ma’am, three bags full ma’am,” Poe whispers under his breath. Finn forces a cough to cover up his laugh, while Rey elbows Poe in the waist.  
  
“You do not speak unless spoken to. And most importantly, this is not a networking opportunity. I know most of you are trying to break into the industry. But while on the clock, you are professional staff representing Holdo-Organa Catering. Any deviation from this will result in immediate dismissal,” she warns, whipping a pointed glare to Poe.

Rey stands nervously next to Poe Dameron, Finn Storm, and Rose Tico, her roommates and best friends. Her brunette hair is tied into three smart buns to ensure there was no chance a stray strand falls into someone’s food. She glanced down to ensure there was no lint on her white uniform blouse or black skirt that adorned her average sized body. She makes sure the black hosiery stretched over her toned legs were run-free. Her Mary Jane pumps are polished with nary a scuff. She practiced walking in those shoes with Rose for two solid weeks, ensuring that they were both broken in for comfort, and so that she could balance a tray on heels. Growing up in Jakku, Arizona, she always wore functional flats, so walking on heels took some getting used to.  
  
“You are dismissed. Now go to your stations!” With a clap of hands, everyone scurries about, like little mice.  
  
“Not network my ass. I didn’t sign up for this just to pour wine in some rich asshole’s glass, like an underpaid sommelier.”  
  
“Poe! You heard what Amilyn said,” Rose says in a hushed voice. “Maybe you can afford to lose this job, but I have to make rent. I need this gig all the way through award season.”  
  
“Poe is right. We aren’t going to get ahead if we don’t take this opportunity. I’m tired of eating ramen and hot dogs every damn night,” Finn exclaims, a touch too loudly. Rose shushes him, looking around frantically.  
  
The three walk away, arguing back and forth under their breath, Rey forgotten about like an afterthought. _A nobody._  
  
Rey squashed her hurt into the recess of her mind, and goes to the water station, filling the glass carafes with cold water from the filtered machine.  
  
_You think you can be a star, Rey? You think you, a nobody, can be somebody? Not even your parents wanted you, and I had to raise you like the inconsequential desert mouse you are. Well go. But don’t come running back to old man Plutt when you fail, because this well has run dry._  
  
Ray slams  the carafe on the table, jostling the table precariously. The supervisor glares at her. “Sorry.”  
  
It has been 6 months, 12 days, and 13 hours since Rey left the desert town of Barstow, California. She walked away from the trailer she called home, littered with trash on the front lawn, hopped onto a greyhound bus, and never looked back.

 _The belonging you seek is not behind you, it is ahead. Sweet child, your parents are never coming back. Here, I have been saving my tips for years, just for you.Take this money. Go be a light for all of us, Rey. Go be a star._  
  
Rey thinks about Maz as she fills the carafes. Maz was the only mother figure she ever knew. She lived a rough life as an old lady with her biker husband, Chewie. After he was killed in drug bust, Maz opened Takodana Bar & Grill, which in time became known as a neural ground for the underbelly of society. Maz was the only person who ever demonstrated any kindness, from ensuring Rey was fed when Plutt denied her food, to giving her under-the-table jobs so she could save up to leave. She even gave Rey her last name to use. Rey couldn’t fail Maz.  

Squaring her shoulders, she places 10 carafes of water on her tray and sets out to the auditorium.

 

**Kylo**

_“Kylo, over here!”_  
  
_“Kylo, what are you wearing?”_

 _“Kylo, is it true you and Ms. Snoke-Netal are an item?”_  
_  
_ “Kylo, do you think you are good enough to win?”

_“Kylo, is it true you haven’t spoken to your mother since your father’s death?”_

Kylo stiffens, offering one last fake smile to the reporters, his eyes flashing with hurt, thankfully covered by designer Armani sunglasses, before turning towards the entrance.  
  
“Oh come on darling. I want to spend more time on the carpet. It’s good for our exposure. Daddy would expect us to put on a show,” Bazine purrs into his ear, her cherry red lips brushing his skin.  
  
“Do what you want. I’m going in.”  
  
Bazine kisses his cheek — always aware of the cameras — before grabbing his hand to enter the auditorium. Ben ignored the anger radiating off of her, knowing full well he’ll get an earful from Snoke tomorrow.  
  
They reach their assigned table, right at the centre, two rows back from the stage. His colleague on the film, and fellow First Order represented actor Armitage Hux, is already eating his dinner, the champagne glass half empty. Gwen Phasma, the social media director for First Order Agency, uploaded  a picture of her dessert to Instagram. At the centre of the table, Snoke sat between the producer, Will Tarkin, and the director, Matt Thrawn.  
  
“So good of you to join us,” Hux sneers, not even bothering to hide his contempt.  
  
“Jealous you weren’t nominated?” Kylo snarks back.  
  
“Sit down, Kylo. Need I remind you where we are?” Snoke hisses.  
  
Kylo drops into his seat, ignoring Bazine, who expected Kylo to pull the chair back. He looks around, ignoring everyone at the table. The place was abuzz with excitement, other actors chatting, drinking, eating, generally having a good time. Something he was definitely not having.  
  
“Sir, if I may have a moment of your time,” Finn, the waiter serving the food, says to Thrawn, who visibly stiffens.  
  
“Is this what we have to be subjected from the hired help tonight?” Phasma drawls. “What is your badge number? FN-2187? I’ll be sure to report you.”  
  
“Sorry, ma’am.” Finn replied quickly, his hand shaking as he places a plate of food in front of Kylo.

Kylo stares intently, catching his name on the tag: Finn Storm, FN-2187, Organa Catering. He stiffens, his face falling into a quiet glare.  
  
Finn backs away quickly, hasty in his departure.  
  
“Honestly, is this the quality we have come to expect from the mighty Leia Organa? I really must say something to the organizers,” Snoke drawls, his eyes meeting Kylo’s in a sardonic smirk.  
  
Kylo bend his head, ignoring the bait, to focus on the scalloped potato and prime rib that was suddenly very fascinating. That it happens to be his favorite food doesn’t go unnoticed.

A slight arm reaches past him, setting a carafe on the table. Ben inhales at that moment, taking in the light scent of vanilla and sugar. He glances up, his eyes meeting the hazel eyes on the most beautiful face he had ever seen.  
  
He looks quickly at the name tag: Rey Kanata.  
  
Rey smiles down at him as she withdrew her arm, her hand grazing his as she did so. What feels like an electrical current passes between the two. Her lips part in a soft betraying gasp, barely heard by anyone, as their eyes connect. She backs up, quickly departing, escaping into the crowd with her tray. Kylo stared after her, watching her slight frame until he can no longer make her out.  
  
Bazine’s eyes narrow in annoyance.  
  
“Ladies and gentlemen, the show will begin in five minutes…”

 

 **Rey** ****  
****  
Rey hides in the corner of the kitchen, away from the sight of everyone who buzzed around her. She held her hand to her chest to calm the rapid beating of her heart.

She didn’t expect to see the younger and more handsome face of Han Solo.

_Hey kid, Chewie tells me you are going to be a star and you want some advice. All I have to say is be careful with who you associate with kid. I wouldn’t want you to end up like my son, Ben — or Kylo Ren as he calls himself now. And for heaven's sake, whatever you do, don’t follow my footsteps._

Rey doesn’t know much about what happened between Han and Ben. But she does know whatever it caused Han a lot of personal pain. _How can someone just walk away from family? Deny their name of birth?_

She didn’t expect that when she finally crossed paths with the son of Han Solo, she would feel… _something._ Her hand still tingles from the contact. The look of desire in his golden brown eyes couldn’t be ignored. She didn’t want to think about what her eyes conveyed back to him.

_Silly girl. You are here to work. To become a star. Not to fall for the first pair of pretty eyes you come across, especially one who betrayed his own family._

“Hey! You there! We aren’t paying you to stand all day. First Order’s table needs a refill!”

Rey immediately jumps to service, hurrying to the table to load her tray with a fresh carafe of water. A familiar voice startles her from her concentration.

“Can you believe all the stars in that room? Meryl Streep herself thanked me!” Rose chats excitedly beside her, loading up her own tray.

“Rose, I need you to do me a favor. Don’t ask why, but I need you to cover the First Order table for me.”

“Rey, I would. But I have a chance to serve Lady Gaga. And you know how hard I stan her. So sorry sister, but I’m not passing this up.”

With a sigh, Rey picks up her tray. A producer of the show motioned her to stop at the door to wait for a commercial break. As she stands at the entrance, her eyes scan the crowd, landing on the tall frame of the man so like his father in size. His height makes him stand out in the crowd, dwarfing the men at his table. His brown wavy hair was perfectly styled, falling to his broad shoulders. His broad pale face accented with a slight California tan, enhances his strong aquiline nose.

Rey can’t deny that he was handsome, to her great discomfort.

“And the nominees for Best Actor are…”

Rey holds her breath, watching as Kylo sits stoically as the names are announced.

“The Golden Globe goes to...Bradley Cooper for A Star is Born.”

Rey watches as Ben’s body slightly slumps in disappointment, even as his hands lift in enthusiastic applause and a wide smile flashes across his face as the camera zooms in for a closeup. Behind him, an bald older man sits at his table glaring, as if it was a personal affront that Kylo lost.

She receives the signal to go and swiftly walks towards the table, deftly dodging actors and actresses. He looks up just as she was two tables away, his eyes locking on hers. Rey tried to look away. _Truly... she tried._

Had she looked away, she would have noticed Bazine slyly smirking. She would have noticed Bazine slowly backing her chair. She would have noticed Hux and Phasma grinning maliciously at the scene in front of them.

The chair contacts with her leg, causing her to stumble, wobbling on her Mary Jane heels like an unsteady newborn calf, the tray sliding precariously in her palm.

It took only a few seconds in reality, but in the moment, it feels like like a slow-motion scene in the movies. The bottle flew from the tray. Water pours over his white tuxedo shirt before the landing spout down on his pants, soaking his groin.

Gasps ate heard around them as reporters quickly gather around, the shuttering of cameras whirring in the background..

“Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry!” Rey frantically and instinctively grabs the nearest cloth napkin she could, rests her hand on his bicep, and pats his chest and groin.

Kylo remains sitting in silence, his face in shock.

“You stupid clumsy ox!” Bazine’s biting voice breaks in loudly. “Get your hands off him. Haven’t you done enough?”

Rey stops. In that moment, she realizes the full horror of just what she was doing. Her left hand was gripping the bicep; the right gripped something equally as strong, which at that moment was in a _very_ alert position. Hazel eyes and golden brown eyes locked in equal expressions of horror… _and something else._

For a moment, those angry voices and whirring cameras and shocked voices are a blur of muted sounds.

For a moment, it was just them.

Kylo was the first to react, pushing her gently off him as he stood up suddenly. Rey pushed back from the table rapidly, almost stumbling in her retreat.

She ran out of the auditorium, humiliated and on the verge of tears, stopping in the kitchen to catch her breath.

“Rey.”

_Shit._

Amilyn stood before her, her lips pursed in displeasure. “Hand in your name tag. You are done for the night, and with the company.”

Rey looks down at her feet, at once feeling insignificant and small. _Always a desert mouse._

She hand the name tag over. “It wasn’t my fault,” she whispers. “She knocked into me…”

“I don’t have time for excuses. Alister Snoke has already lodged a few complaints with the producers, including one complaint that his daughter described as “shameless flirting” by you earlier this evening. I have no choice but to terminate your employ, and hope your actions haven’t permanently damaged the reputation of my company. You are dismissed.”

Rey flees, tears streaming down her face. She hears the clicking of cameras as she exits the kitchen. She runs until she finds an empty hallway with a ladies room. Grateful for the sanctuary, she tucks inside. Thankfully the room was empty, and she leaned against the wall, sliding to the floor. She tucks her legs under her arms, bows her head, and sobs.

 

**Kylo**

“Jesus Christ, Bazine,” Kylo mumbles under his breath, as he watches Rey run from the auditorium. “Was that necessary?”

Looking up with a smirk, Bazine replies “Darling, what do you mean?”

“You fucking damn well know what I’m talking about. You did that to an innocent woman for no fucking reason.”

“Enough!” Snoke slams his hand down on the table. “Tread carefully boy, before you accuse my darling daughter of misbehaving. You are projecting your failure at her, sore you didn’t win an award. It’s because you didn’t listen to me, boy. I told you to audition for a Star is Born, but the mighty Kylo Ren thinks he knows better. You are a failure, just like your father. My innocent daughter will not be where you place your anger. I made you boy, and I can just as easily break you. Now go clean yourself up, you pathetic cur.”

Kylo walks away, containing the rage inside of him, departing the auditorium just as the show resumes.

_Mama, why can’t we be a normal family and go to McDonald’s?_

_The cameras are always watching, my darling son. Always._

He walks into the lobby, immediately blinded by cameras.

_Always smile when there are cameras are around, Ben. Never show them how you really feel, or they will eat you alive._

_Yes mama._

Ben pastes a stoic smile on his face as he passes the reporters. He rounds the bend, and when nobody's looking, tucks into the stairwell.

_Dada, where are we going? The potty is over there._

_Kid, I know a secret bathroom area where there are no reporters around. Daddy needs to take his special medicine._

Muscle memory guides him to a men’s room he hasn’t seen since he was young. Flashes of memories of the sound his father deeply inhaling flashes in his mind.

_Dada, I’m done the potty._

_Just wait, kid. I’m just taking my special nose medicine._

It feels overwhelming and he feels an anxiety attack starting. He reaches into his pocket to grab his own “special” medicine, popping an Atavin, and begins his count.

As he walks out of the men’s room, he bumps into Rey. She looks up at him in shock, her eyes red and face blotchy from tears, before turning on her heels.

Impulsively, Kylo grabs her arm, spinning her back. “Rey, I’m sorry.”

“You can’t help yourself can you? You just destroy everything and everyone that doesn’t mean anything to you. It wasn’t enough that you broke your father’s heart, Ben Solo. But you have to break mine as well!”

Ben reels back, dropping her arm. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”

“Han was Chewie’s best friend. They were like fathers to me.”

“Oh really? Well let me tell you sweetheart. If he really was your father, you would have been sorely disappointed.”

“So says the mighty Kylo Ren. Too good for his family. You’re just a creature, hiding behind a mask!” Rey glares at him, her body in defiance.

“And who the hell are you? I don’t see you wearing a designer gown. I see a girl not even good enough to be a server. You are a nobody.”

“You are a monster,” Rey spits out.

“Yes. Yes I am,” Kylo replies quietly.

Rey droops, tears spilling over. Kylo softens his stance from rage to one of inexplicable regret. They both know they went too far, but they couldn’t take back the words they uttered in angry haste.

In the silence, there is nothing left to say. They walk side by side to the elevator, apologies hovering on each of their lips. Neither with the courage to utter them. When they arrive, he gestures for her to enter. He stands back as she turns to look at him. It is unspoken that he won’t board it with her. She levels him one last look, before she presses the close button.

 


	2. A Sky Full of Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by the song A Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay.

 

  

 

> _I don't care, go on and tear me apart_
> 
> _I don't care if you do ooh ooh_
> 
> _'Cause in a sky, 'cause in a sky full of stars_
> 
> _I think I saw you_

 

 **Rey**  

Rey sits on a bench on Ocean Avenue. From below, the sounds of convertibles with their open tops and loud music streams upwards from the Pacific Coast Highway. The sun is just starting to gently set over the large expanse of the ocean. The lights of the Santa Monica Pier turn on, the ferris wheel lighting up in an array of colour.  
  
Her shoes are kicked off, askew to the side, as she runs her tired feet through the soft grass. Her legs bake a little bit under the black uniform dress with gold crested logo of the Fairmont Miramar Hotel. Her legs and arms ache, having just cleaned three floors worth of bedroom suites. She unbuttons the top of her dress, before taking a drink of the complimentary hotel water bottle.  
  
She watches as an older couple walks by, the wife with both hands on her husband’s arm, leaning in for support that he willingly offers. The wife wears a red sweater around a pink top, and once fashionable retro skirt. He is in baggy high waistband jeans, a blue shirt, and a white bucket hat to protect his balding skin from the rays. The old man turns up his hearing aid to listen to his wife.  
  
She closes her eyes and daydreams about a time when she will be able to walk side by side with someone who would love her so much that he would turn up his hearing device. In her mind, he is a tall to her small, with muscular arms, silver flecked through thick wavy brown hair, gazing at her lovingly with warm golden brown eyes and...  
  
Rey opens her eyes suddenly, and she dribbles a little bit of water down the front of her dress. _Get a grip, dummy._  
  
At once she feels the massive inconvenience of the situation. The collar of her dress, already unbuttoned, feels even tighter. The weather feels warmer against her flushed skin. She is parched, despite having downed her bottle of water. The pink must be the start of a sunburn, even though she only ever tans.  
  
Given the hell she has been through this week since the Golden Globes, she has no right to think of him as the enemy. _Mousy waitress “falls” for Kylo Ren_ the tabloids said. She received rejection calls from the top talent agencies. _You show such promise, but we can’t hire someone who is mired in this type of negativity on one of Hollywood’s biggest nights._  Even the most mediocre agency rejects her. _Simply put, we do contract work with First Order Agency._

She can’t deal with these emotions right now -- _not that she ever can_ . She won’t allow herself to feel anything about him. She won’t allow herself to let these dangerous feelings interfere with her dreams more than they already have. _My parents will never see me from the tenth floor of the Fairmon_ t. She puts her pumps back on and limps to the bus stop, her feelings left behind on the benches of Santa Monica.

 

**Kylo**

Kylo toils with the salad on his plate, his appetite lost as he listens to Phasma drone out about the plans for a social media blitz. To his left, Hux motions to the waiter for another wine bottle. Kylo sips on his sparkling water and says nothing about the ruddy complexion forming on his colleagues face, the sign of inebriation a constant these days.  
  
_Another damn meeting that could have been handled with an email._ This was his punishment, or “damage control” as Snoke called it, after the fiasco of the Golden Globes. He sighs, and nods his head in affirmation at another grandiose plan Phasma has. This is the part of the job he hates. The hustle. The selling. The phoniness.  
  
He knows more than anyone that simply being talented and making good product doesn’t win you awards. It doesn’t sell box office tickets. He grew up seeing both incredible success, and immense failure, and knows which side he would prefer to be on.

_The one that keeps me alive._

These days, he hardly feels like he is living at all, but rather, going through the motions like a puppet on a string being puppeteered by First Order Agency.  
  
A lull falls into the conversation, and he takes that as his cue to exit. Phasma and Hux fake a protest, relieved to be done with this themselves. He privately thanks the waiter with a couple of Benjamin Franklin’s despite the tab being paid by his agency. He puts on his shades, hops into his black Maserati GranTurismo Convertible, and speeds off with a friendly wave to the paparazzi in the bushes.  
  
The tension leaves his body as the warm air breezes through his hair. Alone in his car, he feels the freedom a hamster feels when they escape the cage. He steps on the gas, his car darting between unevenly spaced vehicles, with no particular destination in mind.  
  
He turns the corner, pausing at an amber light on Oceans Avenue. He drums his fingers to an invisible beat on the steering wheel, watching as people cross the street, a mixture of tank tops and bermuda shirts.  
  
His fingers stop when he spots the head of a brunette with her hair in three signature buns, a tanned face adorned with a smattering of freckles.    
  
“Rey” he yells out before he can stop himself.

She turns instinctively to look. Her eyes narrow when she spots his car, and she turns her head back stiffly, as if pretending not have heard him, and continues her march across the street, her pace picking up a beat.  
  
He barely waits until the last pedestrian has crossed before darting out, making a sharp left from the right hand lane through a red, and ignores of the honks of oncoming traffic who are forced to come to a sudden halt.  
  
She looks over her shoulder. He knows she spots him creeping next to her with his car, and quickens her pace.  
  
“Rey, stop.”  
  
She breaks out into a sprint as he parks his car into a free spot. He dashes out of his car, and runs after her.  
  
“Rey, will you just fucking stop?”

She stops, but her jaw out juts outwards, body standing in a rigid stance, and her fists curl. Her body language is complete defiance.

He sees a glimmer of _something else_ in her eye, and he pounces. “Come with me.”

She breaks out in forced laughter. “Are you fucking kidding me? Am I being punked? Because there is no way the mighty Kylo Ren would deign to speak to some _nobody_ like me. Or have you not taken enough from your pound of flesh? Eat shit, asshole.”

She turns, and he reaches out, grabbing her wrist.

“Let me go.”

“Rey. Look. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for lashing out and saying what I did. And I’m sorry for whatever repercussions may have come your way just by crossing my path.”

She looks down and he realizes he is still holding on. He doesn’t want to let go. But he does.

Her arm drops to her side, but she doesn’t flee. She stared at him, chewing her bottom lip, and tilts her head to slightly to the side as if considering something. She is jostled slightly by another rush of tourists, and she wobbles in her heels before catching herself, visibly wincing.  

“I’ll come with you. But you are going to drive me home. I’m tired and my feet are sore. We are going to stop at In-N-Out Burger along the way, and are going to buy me a burger and milkshake. Those are my terms.”

“Done.” He smirks, noting his tiny victory. He’s irrationally happy, and it’s an unsettling feeling. He can’t think of the last time he felt happy in the presence of someone else.

He moves to open the passenger door. She pauses before entering, looking like she wants to say something. “Anything else, _Princess?_ ”

She meets his eyes, and her eyes crinkle as a mischievous smile. “I want fries too.”

He can’t help himself, and breaks into a rare smile that he is certain makes him look awkward and dorky. “As you wish, Your Worship.”

 

 **Rey**  

 

> _'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars_
> 
> _I'm gonna give you my heart_
> 
> _'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars_
> 
> _'Cause you light up the path_

 

Rey laughs so hard, she can barely keep it together. Kylo grins, stuffs his mouth with fries, before doing another impersonation

“Fwankfly my fear, I fon’t gife a famf.”

A new round of giggles escape Rey’s lips. “That’s totally got to be Clark Gable!”

He swallows. “Well done! You are brilliant at this game, you clever girl.”

“My Katharine Hepburn was amazing though, was it?”

She is sitting on the hood of his car, her legs dangling over the grill that he is leaning against. They are parked at the Griffith Observatory. The night sky sparkles around them as they stare at the city of angels.

She doesn’t probe to deeply as to why she feels happy and content. She doesn’t ask how she went from wanting to shiv him to stuffing her mouth with fries while imitating celebrities in a few short hours. She most definitely doesn’t think about how she longs for more of this.

She doesn’t think beyond the perfection of the moment. To think of what has been, or what will be, is a game she is tired of playing. The moment will do.

She shivers at the tinge of sadness that this moment will not last forever. _Good things never do for me_.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

“I’m just a little bit chilly.”

He leans odd the grill, and goes to the trunk. He grabs a leather jacket, and comes back to wrap it around her.

“Here, this will keep you warm.” He looks down at her as he holds the lapels of his jacket, his gaze wandering over her. He leans towards her and she lifts her head. His nose brushes her hair.

Before she can properly acknowledge the current that passes between them with correct facial expression that would properly convey a mutual appreciation, he drops his grip and steps back.

She feels the loss immediately, like a sprout seeking light. He slouches back against the grill of the car, and she leans instinctively against him.

He pauses for a moment, before placing his arm around her shoulder, tucking her closer to his body.

They sit quietly. The silence conveys nothing and everything.

“My dad used to take me here when I was a kid. Before...everything.”

“Is this a good memory?”

The sound of a passing car echoes from the distance.

“Yes.”

“Do you miss him.”

His grip tighten.

“Yes.”

She says nothing, but leans a bit closer to him, conveying comfort in the silence.

“Do you know why I want to be a star?”

Kylo shakes his his.

“I want my parents to see me.”

“Do you need to be an actress for them do do that?”

Rey feels a familiar tightness in her chest.

“They left me in a biker bar in the middle of Barstow nowhere California when I was 6 and never came back. Maybe they don’t know where I am, so if they see me, they’ll know where to go. They’ll come back.” Her voice breaks into a cracked whisper.

Neither openly acknowledges the lie in the statement. Silence is everything.

“Don’t get hurt, Rey. This place will chew you up and spit you out until you are a shallow shell of your former self.”

“Can the hurt here be worse than what I’ve already lived? I am already a shell of my future self.”

Like a clap of thunder, the magical moment that is the evening is over, to the sound of thunderous applause. Death by impasse.

“It’s getting late and probably time to take you home. I have early morning meetings with my agent, and I’m sure you have auditions.”

“Nope. Just my regular job as a housekeeper. Apparently clumsy waitresses who pour water on First Order Agency actors is a dirty word in Hollywood.” A note of bitterness creeps into her voice.

“Seriously? Why would you be punished for an accident?”

“Oh come on Kylo. Don’t pretend you don’t know that your agent didn’t blackball me. No one will touch me with a ten-foot pole because Alister Snoke apparently has some sort of power over talent agencies in this town.”

“Snoke wouldn’t stoop that low.”

Rey’s emotions escalate into anger. “Are you...defending him? I tell you literally what I am being told by those who rejected me, and you think I’m a liar?”

Kylo this his lips in frustration. “Snoke is a supreme agent in this town. He is wise. His word carries weight, that is true. But he would never be deliberately hurtful. His honesty is his most honorable trait. I can set up an interview if you want. First Order Agency can open doors for you.”

“Are you even listening to yourself? How has he actually helped you in any way? Han told me about his son _Ben_ was forced to change his name to _Kylo”_ Rey holds up her hands to signal air quotes. “Who the hell changed their name — their identity — because someone else tells them to?”

Kylo grits his teeth. “Is that what the old man told you? That it was Snoke who did that? _I did that!_ I was the one who wanted to distant myself from my family.”

Rey wipes a tear from her eye. “How is it that I find the one person who would so willingly toss away what I’ve always longed for?”

“I’m not the one that did the tossing.”

 

**Kylo**

 

> _'Cause you're a sky, you're a sky full of stars_
> 
> _Such a heavenly view_
> 
> _You're such a heavenly view_

 

They haven’t spoken to each other since leaving the Griffith Observatory. The car inches forward at a crawl on the I-10, traffic held up by some accident.

Kylo wants to slam the steering wheel in frustration. Rey is leaning her head against the headrest, staring to her right side, avoiding eye contact.  He tries to say something but stops himself. Opening his mouth is usually the source of all his problems, and tonight was no exception.  
  
He’s mad at himself. He misses her laughter already. Her misses the English lilt of her voice; the inexplicable accent she has despite living in California most of her life. As she withdraws into herself, he misses her. She is there but not present

He is inexplicably frustrated. She should mean nothing to him. He doesn’t have time for someone in his life. Even if he did, he would ruin whatever it is they built together, eventually.

But for a brief moment, she had been his everything.  
  
“Where am I dropping you off?”  
  
She doesn’t reply.  
  
“Rey, I know you are mad at me, and I’m more than used to the silent treatment. But I’m not so much of a monster that I’ll just drop you off in the middle of nowhere at this time of night. So tell me where you live.”  
  
A slight snore breaks through his question. He turns to look at her. Her eyes are closed, her mouth slightly ajar, and just a miniscule amount of drool is dripping from her bottom lip.

He reaches out to nudge her a bit, and she snores even louder, as her head lolls in what looks to be an uncomfortable angle.  
  
In a split decision, he peels off onto the 405 and heads to Holmby Hills.  
Twenty minutes later, he pulls into the driveway of the Skywalker Estate. He notices his uncle Luke’s car, parked next to his mother’s Rolls Royce, by the entrance of the “big house.” He grips the steering wheel, and pulls into the side road that leads to the guest house at the edge of the property. Far enough away from the big house that he can have awkward tea and fake conversations with his mother, but avoid that bastard altogether.  
  
He pulls into circular driveway and parks in front of the door. At 3500 square feet, with an attached double garage, 4 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms, and access to the pool, this was his grandfather’s idea of a “little” guest house.  
  
He swings around to her side and gently tries to shake her awake. She mumbles something and settles deeper in sleep. “Okay Sleeping Beauty, let’s do this hard way.” He reaches over to unclasp her seat belt, and tucks his right arm under her legs while wrapping his other arm around her back. He ignores the heels she kicked off for now.  
  
He carries her over the threshold in a bridal carry. She presses herself deeper into his body, her arms wrapping around his waist as her head nestles against him, as if he was a body pillow.  
  
Kylo ignores the fact that his heart is beating a bit faster, and the tightening of his pants as another force within his body awakens.  
  
The downside of being an asshole is that you never have guests over, which means you never have a need for a spare bed in a house as large as this. He instantly regrets converting the other bedrooms into an office, entertainment room, and art room. Left with no other option, he turns to the back of the house, where his master suite was located.  
  
He nudges the door with his toe as Rey stirs gently, half awkening, albeit disoriented. He places her in a sitting position in a reading chair located by the widow in his room. She slumps back in half-sleep, her legs sprawled in front of her. He grabs a old Coldplay concert t-shirt from his dresser, and a pair of sweat shorts.  
  
“Sweetheart? I’m going to need you to change. Can you handle that?”

“No,” she lazily mumbles back. “You change me.”

 _Christ._    
  
He debates just letting her sleep in her uniform. But it doesn’t look comfortable, and it looks like the buttons are beginning to strain from her half-slumped body position. Left with no choice, he gently lifts her in a half-hold, and guides her to the foot of the bed. He pushes her back into the bed and she naturally sits as the back of her knees hit the edge.

He kneels in front of her, and begins to unbutton the vest. It’s not a hard task, as it slides off easily. The blouse looks to be a bit trickier, one of those half button shirts that you have to unbutton _and_ lift over your head.  
  
He gently begins to unbutton the blouse, one button at a time, until it sits half open, her white functional bra peeking out from beneath. Kylo’s breathing starts to beat in a rapid staccato.

“Okay, Sweetheart. I’m going to need you to lift your arms. Can you do that for me?”  
  
Rey mumbles and gives some sort of half nod, and lifts her arms halfway up. _How can she just sleep through this?_ He lifts the shirt upwards, tugging to raise her arms a bit higher.  
  
He’s not a player, but undressing a woman has never been this difficult for him. Rey is becoming a challenge in all parts of his life, and he isn’t sure who is the hunter and who the hunted is in this dynamic.  
  
The shirt finally comes off, and he tries not to stare. _He really does._ He tries not to notice how her pert nipples poke through the soft bra cup. Or how there is a smattering of freckles that he prays to whatever God is listening that he will be able to count how many there are one day.  
  
He’s not going to attempt to take the bra off. He’s not a masochist, after all.  
  
He quickly pokes the t-shirt over her head, then reaches through the arm holes to grab each arm, poking them through the sleeve. With the shirt on, he lifts her up and reaches behind to unzip her skirt.  
  
Thankfully, it gives easily, and falls quickly down her legs. The t-shirt tumbles to the knees, so he tosses the shorts to the side. He reaches under the waist of the shirt to tug at the hosiery, not noticing the shirt ride up, exposing the bottom of the matching white panty. He quickly looks away, pretending he wasn’t at all turned on by the exposure of her upper thigh.  
  
He finally gets her undressed and begins to gently remove the bobby pins holding her three hair buns up; as gently as possible, he also removes the elastics. Her hair tumbles down in a disheveled mess, waves curling around shoulders.  
  
He takes a quiet moment to admire how ... _sexy_ ...she looked, sitting on the edge of _his_ bed, wearing _his_ clothes, looking like a hot mess. A hot mess he wanted so badly.  
  
He lifts her up and guides her to the side of the king-sized bed, and tucks her in. She moans appreciatively.  
  
He looks around, thinking about where _he_ will sleep. He _really_ regrets designing his house for fashion, not function, like a pretentious ass he’s let Snoke mold him into.

He grabs a pair of sweatpants, and heads into the ensuite bathroom. A few minutes later, he comes back out, and heads to his bed, grabbing an assortment of pillows.  
  
“Kylo, what are you doing?” Rey looks at him with one open eye.  
  
“I’m laying pillows on the floor.”  
  
“Just get into bed, Kylo. Your purity is safe with me.” She has the audacity to giggle.  
  
_Well the bed is more comfortable than the floor. And if you put a row of pillows down the middle…._  
  
He looks at the hardwood floor one more time, before he starts tosses the decorative bed pillows down the middle. Her turns on a lamp, then goes to turn off the bedroom light.  
  
The glow of his side lamp shines on Rey. He briefly imagines a future where he gets to do this every night, and immediately tosses it aside. Don’t make this harder on you than it already is, asshole.

He crawls into bed, turns off the light, and stares at the ceiling, as her gentle breath matches his frantic one in a similar tune.  
  
“Kylo?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
He pauses. “You’re welcome, Sweetheart. Now go to bed.”  
  
“Mmmkay.”


	3. Angeles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey wakes up in Kylo's bed. She unexpectedly meets his mother and is forced to confront a past she would rather forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I know I'm a million years behind on this fic. I got caught up in other projects. 
> 
> This chapter is going to deal with some heavy stuff, as we find out what happened to Han. The tags and warnings have been updated. It is rather...violent...so if you want to skip that stuff, stop reading at the *** in the middle of the (italicized) flashback, and resume at the *** at the end of the flashback. I'll put a summary at the end. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, so mistakes are my own.

__

 

 

> I can make you satisfied in everything you do.  
>  All your secret wishes could right now be coming true.  
>  And be forever with my poison arms. Around you.
> 
> _No one’s gonna fool around with us. No one’s gonna fool around with us.  
>  So glad to meet you Angeles. _
> 
> ~Elliott Smith, Angeles

* * *

  **Kylo**

_Kylo is at a fruit stand at the LA Farmers Market on 63rd & 3rd. He picks up the peach, inspecting it for bruises. He guides his hand over the peach, it’s skin soft to the touch. A bit of the stem remains, and he begins to rub his hand over the hard piece. It feels like a pebble in his hand. He leans in to take a bite, his lips pursing over the peach, sucking gently. The peach moans. “Ben,” the peach whispers to him. _  
  
His heavy eyelids jerk open, and his head whips back. His dark chocolate eyes connect with a pair of pretty hazel eyes that are staring back at him; her lips are parted in half-shock, half-submission.

His right arm, tingling with numbness, is tucked under the left side of her body and wrapped around her back, tucking her into his dance space.

His left hand is palming her peachy breast.

The decorative pillows, meant to create a barrier, are strewn across the foot of the bed like deserters escaping battle. The shirt he gave her is laying haphazardly next to the pillows like a comrade in arms. _She must run hot._

Kylo wants to pretend he’s the kind of perfect gentleman that would remove his hand the moment he realizes it is resting on the breast of a woman sharing his bed for purely platonic and convenient reasons.

But Kylo is no gentleman.

Her breath increases rapidly as he continues his caress, but she utters no words of discouragement. He continues like that for a while, his hands memorizing the shape and texture of this peach, this thumb gently peeling away at the layers of intimacy.

Rey cautiously lifts her gentle hand and rests in on his chest, moving it rhythmically back and forth in sync with the beating of his heart. It feels comforting.  
  
There are no words exchanged. Neither has the courage to move their hand further downwards, or to lean forward. They remain that way until Kylo notices her eyes drooping. He drops his hand, and lays back on the pillow, tucking her into his arms.

She lays her head on his chest and scooches closer. He tightens his grip, and they drift off in quiet slumber.

He doesn’t feel alone.

* * *

**Rey**

She slowly awakens, feeling warm and secure in his arms. She has never felt so safe.

The memories of last night come rushing back.  
  
She wants to pretend that she would be the kind of girl who would immediately leap from the bed the moment she discovered she was in the arms of a man - albeit the incredibly beautiful  man she has come to think about more often than she cares to admit - that she has decided is no good for her.  
  
But she’s not that kind of girl when nobody is watching. It’s nice to pretend sometimes. She’s good at pretending.  
  
She lays in his warm comforting arms. He looks peaceful, as if the world where he resides in his sleep is preferable to the world he lives in now.  
  
Her hand reaches to stroke his hair, the soft waves giving way to the web of her fingers. Her eyes objectify his body in wanton lust. He is much broader than she expects and she feels small nestled against his frame. Above his heart is a barely noticeable outline of a falcon surrounded by stars, etched in a ink not that dissimilar to his own color of skin. It’s almost like a burn mark rather than a tattoo, as if branded rather than inked.

She hears voices from outside, and the harsh reality sets in.

Backing away slowly as to not disrupt him, Rey exits the bed. She stops to pick up her clothes and phone from the chair, and heads to the door. Before she leaves, she turns to look at him one last time before gently shutting the door.

_It was nice to be wanted even if it was just for one night._

After freshening up in the guest bathroom, she heads to the kitchen and turns on her phone. While it’s loading, she opens the fridge looking for something to drink. She grabs the orange juice. It’s in a glass jug and looks like it is freshly squeezed. Rey’s inner-child screams in delight. This is an upgrade from the powdered juice she consumed as a child, and the frozen concentrate stuff she drinks now. She consumes one glass rapidly and then pours a second glass in a moment of total indulgence.

Her phone finally turns on, signalled by the rapid pings of incoming texts. She glances at the texts from her roomates come up in rapid succession.

> **Flyboy:** Got a part in a Spielberg film!!! Celebration at Mos Eisley’s tonight!
> 
> **Stormboy:** Didja hear that Poe got cast & I have a great lead on a role in a soap?! Tell u deets l8tr.
> 
> **Flowerchild:** Party time! Can I borrow ur white blouse?

_Does nobody care where I am or if I am safe?_  
_  
_ Shaking the negative thought from her mind, she opened her Apple maps, and she let out a little cry of shock at the name of the neighbourhood: Holmby Hills. A far cry from my trailer park in Barstow.

She quickly orders an Uber and drinks one more glass of juice.  
  
She notices a notepad and fountain pen, next to a bundle of papers, and an Ativan prescription on the counter. The bundle appears to be some sort of contract with First Order Agency, judging by the logo and legalese looking words. There is something familiar about the logo. It hovers on the periphery of her mind but Rey is unable to make a connection. Shrugging, she quickly scribbles her name and cell phone number onto the notepad.

She quietly leaves, shutting the door as quietly as she can.

* * *

  

> _Someone's always coming around here, trailing some new kill. Says "I've seen your picture on a Hundred-dollar bill." What's a game of chance to you, to him is one of real skill._
> 
> _So glad to meet you, Angeles._

Rey exits the house, her eyes widening at the adjacent mansion, surrounded by green topiaries. The mansion is tucked in a bit into the trees. She’s never seen so much green before **.**

Between Kylo’s house and the sprawling mansion there appears to be a pool, surrounded by a gate, and a tennis court at the back. She hears voices from behind the gate. She pushes the gate forward, and two sets of heads turn her way.  
  
Lying on the lounge chair, wearing a white caftan and designer shades while sipping a martini, is a shorter older woman. Her brunette hair, with wisps of silver and grey threaded throughout, is tied up in two buns, each nestled on the side of her face.  
  
In the pool is a similar-aged man with grey hair and striking blue eyes. He appears to be wearing brown swim trunks and a tan-colored tank top. He’s got a pool cleaning device in one hand, and a cigar in the other.

“Who are you?” the man asks gruffly.  
  
“I’m Rey. I’m a...” she pauses, searching for the right word, “friend of Kylo’s.”  
  
He looks at her skeptically. “My naughty nephew doesn’t have any friends. Who are you really?”  
  
Rey sucks in her breath, irrationally angry at his assessment. “I’m Rey Kanata. Who the hell are you?”

The older women drops her martini glass into the tile, the shattering of the glass the only sound beyond the whirring of the pool cleaner. The two exchange a glance with each other, as if speaking in a secret language.

“I’m Luke Skywalker, uncle of...Kylo.”

The woman on the lounger sits up, removing her shades to look at Rey.

“And I’m Leia Organa-Solo. Ben’s mother...and…Han’s wife.” Her voice catches on Han’s name.

Rey’s breath catches. They stare at each other in silence. Rey understands that the woman before her knows who she is, and most importantly, where she was _that_ day.  
  
“Rey. Tell me everything you know.”

* * *

  

> _Picking up the ticket shows there's money to be made. Go on, lose the gamble that's the history of the trade. Did you add up all the cards left to play to zero?_
> 
> _And sign up with evil, Angeles?_

_“Rey, I’m going to Safeway to pick up some lemons and lime. Keep and eye on the idiots while I’m gone.” Maz jerks her head towards Chewie and Han before leaving._  
_  
Rey grins. “Sure thing Maz.”_

_A little bit of perspiration rolls down her forehead. It’s a scorcher outside at a blistering 110°. She hears Chewie and Han arguing in the backroom, trying to fix the broken air conditioner._

_“No, no, no. This one goes there. That one goes there!” Han yells at Chewie, who yells back at Han what Rey thinks is a swear in his native language._

_She sips her glass of sweet iced tea while doing her homework in the back corner of The Cantina. Maz doesn’t mind that Rey studies when there’s nothing to do. The more time that she can avoid being at home, the better. She knows to be quiet and unassuming, especially when the men roll into town on their bikes._

_“Hey there, kid. How are your grades this semester?”_

_She looks up and sees Mr. Solo — Han as he goes by — standing by her table, his hands on his hips, lips curled up in a cocky grin. Rey smiles back to one of the few men who actually gives a shit about her. In some ways, he’s the father she’s never had. She scooches over and Han sits down, sipping his own bottle of Miller Genuine Draft._  
_  
“I almost got Straight A’s! I got a B in Art, but that’s because Mr. Hutt is an asshole who doesn’t appreciate my expression.”_

_“Hey, watch it kid. No swears from you. It’s bad enough I have to hear my fucking son swear like the fucking asshole he sometimes is.”_  
  
_Rey grins at him. “Geez Mr. Solo, I wonder where why he swears?”_

_Han holds up his hands in faux-protest. “I get enough flack from Leia.”_

_She is about to reply when the door suddenly slams open. An average-sized man with a Caesar haircut walks in. He’s wearing a black leather jacket with a distinct red logo on the back, and black biker chaps over his denim jeans. He is surrounded by a bunch of guys wearing the same clothes._  
_  
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” mumbles Han. He reaches for the gun he has hidden in a holster tied around his cargo pants. “Kid, go to the back and get Chewie. Quickly! And stay in the office with the doors locked until we tell you it’s safe to come out. Hurry now!”_

_She quickly slips away before she is detected by the newcomers. She barely makes it out of their sight when she hears their voices yell out._  
  
_“Han Solo. You’re a dead man!”_

_“Bala-Tik. You are just the guy I’ve been looking for!”_  
  
_“I highly doubt it. I’ve come for what is owed.”_

_“I paid that debt years ago via the Kanji Club when they came to collect.”_  
  
_“Tell that to Kanji Club.”_  
  
_“I don’t owe nothing to him. He’s taken more than his pound of flesh from me. He’s taken everything I have. What more does he want? What more can he take?”_  
  
_“I’ll show you what more he can take.”_

_Rey hears a click of a barrel of a gun being set._

_“Hey now. Put that down. I’ve always come through. I just need some more ti —”_

**_***_ **

_Han doesn’t get a chance to finish the sentence when a gun goes off. Rey presses behind the booth, trying to make herself as small as possible, biting her lip to not cry out._  
  
_Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees Chewie burst in with a shotgun._  
  
_The sound of bullets explode around her._  
  
_Silence descends into the Cantina. She shivers as she strains her ears, trying to figure out if it’s safe. She hears the doors of the Cantina slam close and the peel of tires as the Harley Davidson’s take off from the lot._  
  
_A few minutes pass and Rey peeks from behind the booth. She can see a few goons lying about from whatever gang just entered. They are dead._  
  
_She looks around and sees Han lying next to Chewie, both of them lying in a pool of blood._

_She lets out a blood curdling scream._

_“Han! Mr. Solo! Chewie!” She runs to to their side. He is struggling to breath. Chewie is dead._

_Han has enough energy to reach his thumb to her cheek, and runs it down her face in affection before his hand drops._ _  
_

_“Tell…” he gasps. “Tell Ben and Leia that...I’m...sorry...that I tried ...it was all for them...I...love…”_

_He exhales one last time as his eyes roll backwards. His chest stops moving._  
_  
“No! Noooo!” She screams inconsolably._

_How long she sat there on the floor in a pool of blood seems like hours, but mere minutes later, Maz bursts in and grabs Rey, pulling her into her arms. There are sounds of the police squad entering the room._

_“I’ve got you dear child. I’ve got you.”_

_She blacks out._  
_  
_ **_***_ **

“I can’t…” Rey cries out and turns to flee the pool area.  
  
“Rey wait! You don’t have to leave so soon. I’m sorry!”

Rey runs to out of the gated area and past Kylo’s door as it opens. He runs out on the pavement, wearing only sweatpants, barefoot with his hair dishevelled.  
  
“Rey! Rey!!! Come back! Stop!”

The Uber pulls up and she quickly jumps in. She orders it to take off, and doesn’t look back.

* * *

**Kylo**  
  
Kylo storms to the pool. “What did you assholes do to her? Haven’t you caused enough damage to my life, and now you have to spread your dysfunction to my girl —.” He pauses, catching himself. Rey isn’t his _anything._ “What did you say to her?”

“Watch your language around your mother, asshole,” Luke spits out.  
  
“Like I’m going to fucking listen to you, asshole,” Ben spits back.  
  
“Both of you assholes knock it the fuck off.” Leia rises from the lounger. “Ben…”

“It’s Kylo,” he grits out, his jaw clenching.  
  
Leia matches his steel gaze with a steel gaze of her own. “I’m not calling you by the name that monster gives out. I birthed you son, and I’m calling you Ben.”  
  
He backs down. Even he’s not match for his formidable mother.  
  
“Fine. But what did you do or say to her that caused her to run away?”

“Nothing. I promise you. When I discovered who she was, all I did was introduce myself and asked her to tell me everything she knew about that day at the Cantina.”  
  
“Jesus fucking Christ mother.” Kylo yells. He picks up her crystal tumbler of gin and throws it at the fence wall. It shatters, the gin splattering onto the potted plant.

“Did you not for one fucking second think about the trauma she might have endured? Did you not think for one fucking second that this would upset her? Or is your functionally dependent alcoholism no longer functional?”

Leia slaps his face. “I lost my husband. I have a right to know what happened.”  
  
He glares at her. “You lost your husband long before his death. And your son. Not that you give a shit.”  
  
Leia reels back in shock. “Ben…”

“That’s enough.” Luke climbs out of the pool. He turns to Kylo. “Get back to your side of the fence. You cause nothing but damage wherever you go. You are just like your grandfather. You are nothing but a monster.”

Kylo glares back. It feels like a band-aid that has been covering his soul has been ripped off. All the anger of his youth lashes out.  
  
“Yes I am,” he seethes, practically frothing at the mouth. “And if you ever talk to me — or Rey — again, I’ll show you a monster.”

Luke brushes his shoulder, as if ignoring him. “Whatever you say, kid. See ya around.”

Luke gently grabs a distraught Leia by the hand and walks her back into to the main house.  
  
Kylo notices her fragility and for a moment feels like a heel. He won’t admit that it hurts him to hurt his mother. That he misses what they once had.

It’s the price that has to be paid to leave it all behind and become what he is meant to be. Somehow though, that  goal — the one that Snoke planted in his head all those years ago — feels incredibly shallow right now. The cost of ambition feels steeper than it ever has before.

He walks back into his house, and heads for the kitchen. His eyes reluctantly looks at the contract that he’s been putting off signing. The prospect of committing to another long-term contract with Snoke feels like an even heavier weight of pressure than it did before. He feels a tremor of an anxiety attack beginning and reaches for the Ativan.

He grabs a glass and opens the fridge door. There is hardly any orange juice left. He smiles at himself and makes a note to ensure there is a generous amount of orange juice ready for the next time she sleeps over.

_If there will be a next time._  
  
His mind drifts back to the feel of her breast on his palm. The beauty of her face. The sound of her laughter. The gentle rumble of her snores. The feel of her breath.

He notices something written in an unfamiliar penmanship on the notepad. It looks like a phone number. He runs to the study to grab the reading glasses and his cell, before sprinting back to the notepad. He smiles when he sees Rey’s scrawl, and quickly enters her contact information in iPhone. He saves her as a favorite and inserts a pic of them from the Observatory.

_There will be a next time._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To summarize the chapter:  
> 1\. Ben fondles Rey while sleeping in the same bed. They wake up, but don't really stop. ;)
> 
> 2\. Rey really really likes fresh squeezed OJ. The notices a Ben's renewal contract with First Order Agency on the counter, and the logo seems familiar but she insn't sure why. 
> 
> 2\. Rey leaves in the morning while Kylo is sleeping, and meets Leia and Luke. Leia recognizes her last name and asks what happened the day that Han died.
> 
> 3\. Rey has a flashback. Basically, Han was visiting Chewie (for reasons I'll get to in a later chapter as it's integral to the story). Han is killed by gang member who came to collect on a drug debt from a long while before. Han swears he paid the debt, and that he's given up so much since. (What you say?? That too will be revealed later). 
> 
> 4\. Han is killed in a gun battle. Chewie bursts in and is killed as well. Rey was hiding behind a booth and was the only witness to what happened. She blacks out afterwards.
> 
> 5\. The memory traumatizes Rey and she flees. Kylo, who has just woken up, tries to stop her. He confronts his mother and uncle, and has a big fight with his mother. 
> 
> So thoughts? Comments? Speculation? Share in the comments! I would love to hear from you.


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